Twisted Elite: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Royal Falls Elite Prequel)

by Kristin Buoni

  Slowly and carefully, I padded up the spiral staircase. It was sturdier than it looked, and it terminated in another small room, lit with white candles. A door stood at the end. Faint music and laughter floated out from beyond.

  I stepped forward, every inch of me tingling and pulsing with anticipation. The door was made from oak which looked much older than the walls surrounding it. It had a knob of black metal that looked ancient, and several inches above that was an embossed golden rose with a snake coiled around it.

  I was struck again by the sense that whatever lay behind this door was forbidden to me; a cold, shuddery feeling like the floor had just fallen out of my stomach. But that didn’t stop my hand from reaching for the knob. I turned it carefully and peeked behind the door.

  At the sight before my eyes, I let out a small, strangled gasp.

  “Holy shit.”

  2

  Laney

  Stretching out in the room before me was the wildest party I’d ever seen. If you could really call it a party, that is. A better term might be ‘orgy’ or ‘kink club gathering’. All I could hear were whimpers and loud kisses. Lips on skin. Sighs and groans. Music with a heavy beat.

  I opened the door a tiny bit more to see and hear better, crouching to keep myself hidden behind a tall pink and white floral arrangement which sat close to the entrance, along with a pile of clothes and shoes.

  The room wasn’t huge like most of the others in this house, which made sense due to the fact it was on a hidden fourth level—probably somewhere under one of the mansion’s many soaring turrets—but it was lush and decadent all the same. A beautiful hidden paradise.

  The wallpaper was dark red with an expanse of gold-trimmed fan patterns overlapping in elaborate combinations. Framed paintings of ancient Greek mythological figures lined those same walls, along with low velvet lounges and more floral arrangements. At the ceiling were strips of gold molding with curlicues at the corners, and the ceiling itself was covered almost entirely with gold leaf.

  All around the room, a mixture of black, white, red, pink and gold candles lit the space, casting flickering shadows over the action.

  A young woman in a gold thong, matching gold domino mask, and a pink and white rose crown atop her head was dancing to an unfamiliar song close to the center of the space, rolling her hips and flashing inviting smiles at her cheering admirers. A strange object was clasped between her hands—a staff that was shaped like a long-stemmed rose with a snake coiled around it.

  Just like the pattern on the door outside.

  Not far from the dancing woman and her keen admirers, men in black masks groaned as other women in gold thongs knelt between their legs, taking their cocks in their mouths with wild, gleeful abandon. More couples sat or lay on plush lounges around the edges of the space, kissing and bouncing to the deep rhythmic music as they screwed like bunnies. Others were engaged in kinkier stuff involving cuffs, tasseled little whips, or black studded paddles, and their moans and groans were an unfamiliar mixture of pain and pleasure.

  None of these people seemed to have any qualms whatsoever about having sex in front of everyone else in the room.

  I kept my hand over my mouth, just in case I accidentally breathed too loudly. I figured most people would’ve noticed that the door was open by now, but everyone at this secretive kink party seemed to be too caught up in the action to register anything beyond their own bodies, or the bodies they were admiring and touching.

  It occurred to me then that the men all seemed to be middle-aged or older. Even though most of them wore masks over the middle part of their faces, they couldn’t hide the lines on their necks and foreheads, and many of them also had bits of white or gray in their hair. A few of them were even fully gray.

  The women all seemed young. Again, most of them were wearing masks, so it was hard for me to determine an exact age range, but it was obvious from their lean, smooth-skinned bodies with perky breasts and asses that they were younger than the men.

  Aside from the masks, the girls also wore rose crowns on their heads, just like the dancing girl in the middle. Some wore eccentric golden tassels on their nipples, and some wore fashionable lingerie. Others were completely naked. The only thing every single one of them had in common was the strange makeup they wore on the visible parts of their faces and bodies.

  They were painted with silver and gold markings, and they had tiny faux jewels affixed to their features, too. Their glittering cheekbones made them glow and sparkle like wood nymphs or fairies from a fantasy movie.

  I kept observing them from my spot, utterly transfixed as question after question popped up in my muddled brain. What exactly was this party supposed to be? Aside from the obvious, that is. Why were they hiding it in a secret room in the Connery mansion? Who exactly were all these men and women? And… why the hell was a man filming everything?

  I’d just spotted him, standing on the far side of the room with a black smart phone tilted sideways. He was slowly moving it around, lips twisted into a smirk as he captured the salacious action. After he’d swept the camera across the whole room and back, he crept closer to a groaning girl and crouched to get a better view of her body as she reached back and spread her ass cheeks wide with her fingertips.

  I gulped and moved farther behind the giant floral arrangement in front of me, peeking through a tiny gap in the foliage now. Fortunately, the man with the phone hadn’t noticed me or the open door, just like the others.

  Anxiety suddenly gnawed at my stomach as a cold feeling settled over me, and the spinning confusion in my head quickly turned to dread.

  Even though I hadn’t been caught up here and explicitly told to get the hell out—at least not yet—I knew I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t invited, and I obviously wasn’t welcome. If these people actually wanted anyone else here, they would’ve left the door to the Rose Room downstairs wide open, along with the swinging bookshelf, and there would’ve been a flashing neon sign saying, ‘Kink party in the hidden room up the spiral stairs. Come and join us!’

  It wasn’t just that, either. There was something else happening in my mind, somewhere in its deepest recesses. Even though I was sure I wasn’t witnessing anything illegal, because everyone here seemed willing and happy, I couldn’t shake the dark sense that something was wrong.

  Very wrong.

  I frowned, trying to figure out where this raw, primal fear was coming from, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  Perhaps it was simply a sensory overload from being exposed to something so strange compared to my usual life, or maybe I was having a full-on panic attack. I’d suffered from panic attacks before, when I was younger, although they felt different from this—they were more of a gasping, clutching, can’t-breathe-at-all type of experience. Not this cold, hair-raising sense of dread and darkness.

  Things could change, though. A doctor once told me that anxiety could manifest in all sorts of ways, even if you were used to it happening another way. Sometimes you wouldn’t even know why it happened. It would just descend upon you, right out of the blue.

  That’s gotta be it, then, I told myself. Panic attack. Just breathe and figure out a way to leave this room without being seen or heard….

  The order phone suddenly buzzed in my pocket, sending a small jolt through me, and I almost let out a scream before I realized what it was. I slipped it out of my pocket and briefly peeked at the screen. The person who’d ordered the French martinis had finally replied.

  Sorry. Got caught up with something. We’re in the Gardenia room! they said.

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek. This new message meant I was right earlier. I definitely didn’t belong in this mysterious upstairs room, and I only wound up here through a series of flukes.

  I carefully backed up from my hiding spot, using one outstretched hand to keep the door from slamming shut and alerting everyone to my presence. When I was all the way out of the room, I clasped the ancient black knob and eased the door shut, as slowly and
quietly as I possibly could.

  When it closed with only the softest of clicks, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and hurried down the steep spiral stairs. I pushed the bookshelf back around, grabbed the martinis from the dusty table, and fled from the little room.

  The two men who’d given me the key earlier were still in their spot by the accent table in the hall, heads bowed close together and shoulders tensed. Clearly, their argument wasn’t over yet.

  With my heart pounding, I headed toward them and held the ancient gold key out in my free hand. “I need to return this,” I murmured, keeping my eyes low.

  One of the men frowned. “Weren’t you supposed to leave those drinks on the table?”

  “Sorry?”

  He gestured toward the tray with the two martinis. “You were meant to leave them in the Rose Room. The old library. Right?”

  I nervously licked my lips. It all made sense now. These men thought I’d received a drink order for the weird upstairs party—meaning they knew all about it, and were probably there earlier—but they hadn’t expected me to actually find it. When they gave me the key, they expected me to simply enter the dusty so-called library and leave the drinks on that little table.

  They had no idea that I would spot the footprints in the dust and discover the swinging bookshelf which led into the secret staircase nook. And they definitely had no idea that I would sneak up those stairs and spy on that wild sex party.

  “Oh. There was a note on the table saying they didn’t want the drinks anymore,” I said, forcing a genial smile. “There was no one in there, either, so I guess they just didn’t feel like hanging around a musty old library anymore.”

  The man grunted and took the key. “Right.”

  “I better go now. I have other orders to fill,” I said before turning and heading down the hall on shaky legs. I could feel the men’s eyes on my back as I went, but I didn’t turn around.

  I found the Gardenia room, dropped off the martinis, and hurried downstairs. The cold, panicky feeling in my system hadn’t dissipated, and all I wanted to do was get the hell out of here and go home. Back to my little house in Silvercreek, away from all these rich people and their strange, sinful party games.

  When I reached the foot of the main staircase, I almost bumped right into Charles Connery. He smiled and raised his brows. “Everything all right, Delaney?”

  I gulped. “Yes, sir. I’m fine. But I was wondering if I could leave a bit early. I know I’m supposed to stay until the party ends, but I just remembered I have a paper due on Monday, and I really need to get started on it.”

  He glanced at an ornate clock on the wall. Then he let out a short groan and slapped a palm against his forehead. “Of course. It completely slipped my mind that you’re only sixteen. You must have a ton of homework.”

  “Seventeen,” I said, though it didn’t matter in the slightest. I was just blurting things out because I was so nervous.

  “Right. Seventeen,” he said with a slow nod. “Anyway, my apologies. I shouldn’t have kept you here so late. The other staff members don’t have school on Monday, so they can handle the rest of the work tonight.”

  I gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Mr. Connery. I really appreciate it.”

  “It’s no problem. What’s the paper on?”

  My brows rose. “Sorry?”

  “Your school paper. What’s it about?”

  The flush in my cheeks deepened. I’d already forgotten all about my lie.

  C’mon, you aren’t usually this dumb, I told myself. I put it down to what I’d witnessed upstairs; temporary foolishness caused by pure shock. “Oh, that,” I said meekly. “It’s a history assignment. Civil War.”

  “Ah, interesting. I love history.” He cocked his head to one side. “You know, we have a fully-stocked library right here in the house if you’d like to come and use it someday. It wouldn’t be any bother at all, and I’m sure my sons wouldn’t mind helping you out if you get lost or need a fresh pair of eyes on your work. They’re around your age, so they’re probably working on similar assignments.”

  I swallowed hard. Honestly, after what I’d seen tonight, I never wanted to come back to this house again. Even though it seemed like I was completely overreacting, because everything upstairs seemed consensual, the events I’d witnessed had struck something at my very core. It felt like there was a stick hitting a gong inside me, resulting in a loud, reverberating hum in my mind; an alarm telling me that something was deeply wrong.

  “Thanks so much for the offer, Mr. Connery, but I’m all set. I took out a ton of books from the school library.”

  He nodded. “All right. The offer is always there if you need it for future assignments,” he said. “Your mom is one of my favorite staff members, so if I can help out her kids in any way, I’m happy to do so.”

  He lay a hand on my shoulder as he spoke, and I flinched.

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Delaney?” he asked, concern filling his eyes. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  My gaze flitted to the stairs and back again, a brief, involuntary movement that I hoped would go unnoticed. Unfortunately, judging by the slight narrowing of Mr. Connery’s eyes, it was more obvious than I thought. I swallowed thickly again. “I’m fine. Just nervous about this paper. I really want to do well.”

  He nodded slowly, lips pressing into a thin line. “Right. Of course,” he said. I could tell he was straining to maintain a light, breezy tone.

  “I better get going. Thanks again for letting me work tonight,” I said, forcing another smile. “And thanks for letting me leave early.”

  “Before you go…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two crisp hundred dollar notes. A mere pittance to him, but a fortune to a girl like me. “Here’s a tip for your hard work.”

  My eyes bulged. “Mr. Connery, I couldn’t possibly accept so much. Especially when I’m leaving an hour early.”

  “You deserve it,” he replied, still holding the cash out. “I’m very happy with your performance tonight. And your discretion.”

  Ah. He was probably worried that I’d seen something upstairs, and this was a bribe to make sure I kept my mouth shut about it.

  “Thank you,” I said in a weak voice, slipping the money into my pocket. “It’s very generous.”

  He gave me a tight smile and put his hand on my shoulder again. “Let me walk you out to your car. It’s very dark out there.”

  He followed me out to the large staff parking area near the left side of the mansion. My car was close to the edge, and I felt hot pinpricks of shame creep over my neck and face as we arrived at it. Mr. Connery was probably used to driving the flashiest vehicles in the world, so I figured the sight of my ancient, beat-up car would make him feel pity or secondhand embarrassment for me.

  I gritted my teeth and cringed internally, wondering how and when I became so horribly self-deprecating. I worked hard for my car. As soon as I turned sixteen and got my driver’s license last year, I saved up every penny I could from my diner job and bought the old Honda from my neighbor.

  It was only a thousand bucks and broke down every few months, but it worked most of the time, and it got me from A to B. That was all that mattered in the end. It might not be pretty, but it meant I had some independence and a means of transport, which was more than I could say for a lot of other teenagers out there.

  I should be proud of myself, not ashamed.

  “You bought this car all by yourself, didn’t you, Delaney?” Mr. Connery said as I fished my keys out of my pocket. It was like he’d psychically read my thoughts. “I think I remember your mother mentioning something about it to me.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I did.”

  “Good job. I wish more kids were like you and saw the value of hard work. You’ll go far in life if you keep at it.”

  I smiled politely. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Anyway, I’ll let you go. Good luck with the Civil War paper.”

&nbs
p; He gave me one last smile before turning and trudging slowly back over to the mansion’s side entrance.

  I stuck my key in the car door. As I turned it, something caught my eye. A silhouette had appeared in one of the mansion’s second-story windows. At first I thought it might be one of the upstairs party guests sitting by the window for whatever reason, but then I realized I was looking at the east wing of the house. The guests were only in the south wing.

  I squinted at the silhouette, curious about who or what it was. It didn’t really look like anything or anyone, just a random dark mass… until it moved.

  I stared with wide eyes as a person rose to their full height by the window. It was unmistakably a man—I could see a head with short hair, a muscular torso, and long legs. Then the curtains slid open, ever-so-slightly, as if the man was peeking out of the house just to look at me. After all, there was nothing else out here except me and a bunch of cars.

  For the briefest of moments, I thought it might be Charles Connery checking to make sure I’d left safely. Then I realized that wasn’t possible, because when I lowered my gaze, I could see him stepping into the house. He’d only just reached it.

  I blinked and looked up again. The shadowy figure was gone, and the light in the room was off. There was no one there anymore.

  I shrugged it off, figuring it was probably just one of the staff members checking all the rooms for anything out of the ordinary. Or maybe I simply imagined the whole thing. After all, I was still fairly jumpy from everything else that had happened tonight, and it was after eleven o’clock, so I was pretty exhausted.

  I got in my car and turned the key in the ignition. As I backed up to turn out of the parking lot, I glanced in my rear view mirror. Goosebumps immediately peppered my arms, and every hair on the back of my neck rose.

  Even though the light in that east-wing room was off, and I’d assumed the figure I saw was either gone or never even existed, I could see that wasn’t the case now that I was slightly closer. The curtain was still open, even wider now, and there was a black person-shaped shadow in the gap.